


Breaking It In

by Hella_Queer



Series: Dom for Hire AU [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dom for Hire AU, Dom/sub, Forniphilia, Kinktober 2017, M/M, tsukkikage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: Forniphilia.The name had made him weary. He assured himself that he was just looking it up to make sure it wasn't illegal or involved any unconsenting parties. Searching for images was purely curiosity. Practicing some of the positions was an endurance test. Finding professionals who specialized in such things..That was his first mistake.His second: hiring Tsukishima Kei.





	Breaking It In

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober #2: Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

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At twenty five, Kageyama had a pretty good handle on his sex life. He knew what he liked, what he hated, what he wanted in a partner, and where to find one. He wasn't in anything committed, but work kept him busy, and his past lovers were always happy to spend another night in his bed.

He really wishes he could blame someone else for his less than reputable decisions, but that would be contradictory to his current situation. He will, however, blame Nishinoya for sending that list of kinks to the group chat. And he blames Hinata, his self proclaimed best friend, for introducing him to Nishinoya back in high school. 

_Forniphilia._

The name had made him weary. He assured himself that he was just looking it up to make sure it wasn't illegal or involved any unconsenting parties. Searching for images was purely curiosity. Practicing some of the positions was an endurance test. Finding professionals who specialized in such things..

That was his first mistake.

His second: hiring Tsukishima Kei.

After gathering the courage to contact someone, and then blocking the emails of everyone he had canceled on, Kageyama finally bit the bullet. And shut down his laptop and turned off his phone so he couldn't chicken out again.

Tsukishima had done away with all of the fancy, technical terms and straight up called himself a Dom for Hire, capitalization included. His job was as the name suggested; for BDSM related activities, he was the one you called when you weren't the one in control. Straight and to the point, which Kageyama preferred. It felt like a business deal, and he had plenty of experience with those. They exchanged brief introductions, private contact information, and Tsukishima gave him one week to consider his services.

The next time they spoke, he swore he had been ready. 

It wasn’t any different from all the conference calls he sat in on, after all. So while he prepared dinner that night, he dialed the number he had memorized, double checking he got it right before calling. It rang twice, and on the third ring Kageyama started dicing onions.

 _”Hello?”_

“Jesus fuck!” Kageyama’s hand jerked, and he dropped the knife before he could cut himself. The voice on the other end of the phone chuckled, amused and self-assured and not at all what he had been expecting.

 _”Kageyama Tobio, I’m assuming?”_ Yup, definitely amused.

He had anticipated some pornstar-type voice, either too breathy or too gruff. But the man spoke almost elegantly, with a hint of condescension that Kageyama usually disliked. Yet somehow, right now, he didn’t. 

“Yea-yes. Yes, I’m Kageyama.” He grabbed the glass of water on the counter and took a hasty drink. “Tsukishima Kei?” He asked in turn, wanting the ball out of his court.

Business calls never strayed to the topics of what fabrics felt best against his skin, or if he was allergic to latex, or if he was comfortable with being touched intimately. That's what Tsukishima said in his unfairly cool and calm voice. _Intimately._

 _”I can't say you're my first clumsy client.”_ Kageyama gritted his teeth, holding firmly to the cup in his hand. _”I hope I won't have to be too strict with you.”_ A mocking coo that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He could imagine smirking lips pressed to his ear, a hand not quite touching his hip.

_”I assume you've read the agreement I sent?”_

“Yes.”

_”And you still wish to proceed?”_

“Yes.” As if he could cancel now. Not meeting the man attached to this voice would be the worst form of self torture.

Another chuckle caught him off guard. _”Are you capable of saying anything besides yes?”_

“Ye–I-.” Kageyama huffed, feeling flustered. He was never like this. He was a man of power, of control and stability. His staff counted on him to be on top of things at every turn, no matter the issue. He was a professional.

“Asshole.”

He was sure this Tsukishima had been called worse, especially if he was this much of a jerk in person. Was he really the one Kageyama wanted to be laid vulnerable to?

_”I think this will be fun. My weekend is open, if that works for you.”_

It did.

 

Tsukishima sits across from him, his long fingers curled around a glass of lemon water, his lips curled around that ever present smirk. They’ve been chatting for half an hour, and Kageyama hasn't once seen it slip from his face.

“I didn't ask to be humiliated, though I'm sure that's a service you offer free of charge.” Golden brown eyes flash with mirth, and the man rests his chin in his hand as he leans forward, closer. Kageyama resists the urge to move back.

“Forgive me,” Tsukishima says, sounding not at all apologetic. “I'm used to working with certain...types.” He licks his lip, watching Kageyama watch the movement. “Those who want to be dominated often feel stress in their daily lives. I just assumed someone in your position, with so many responsibilities, might feel the same.”

It was objectively true, at least. Kageyama managed a lot of things, a lot of people. He worked long hours, longer nights, and sparingly used his vacation time. But he liked having things to do and manage, so no, he wasn't like all the others Tsukishima had ‘helped’.

“I’m simply curious.” Kageyama checks his watch as an excuse to avoid eye contact. He hated making eye contact. One of his soft skills that he was too stubborn to develop. “You said we could start around five, yes? It's a quarter till right now.”

Tsukishima hums in acknowledgment, and finishes off his glass. Kageyama takes a final drink of his tea, the sweetness a welcome breath of fresh air. He catches a drop by the corner of his mouth with his tongue, licks it away.

Those eyes bore into him, amusement replaced by something heavier, darker.

“Then I suppose we should get going.”

 

Let it be known that Kageyama Tobio wasn’t a quitter. When they arrive at his apartment, and Tsukishima lays out all of the accessories for this particular scene, Kageyama doesn’t bat an eye. Just because he had been a little unsure in the beginning didn't mean he was scared. This was sex, and his reputation didn't stop at the front doors of the office.

So he strips right there in the kitchen, and lets the man dress him up.

“Normally I undress my clients,” Tsukishima says lightly, circling him. “But your enthusiasm is adorable, so I'll let it pass. This time.” He says it like he's anticipating a second time.

He puts a guiding hand on Kageyama’s hip and urges him to hold onto the counter and bend over. They talked about this, somewhat in depth, through email just this morning, so Kageyama isn't surprised. And like, he showered before they met up, he spent a good ten minutes back there. He isn't worried about anything going wrong.

He just doesn't expect to hear laughter when Tsukishima gets a finger inside of him.

“What?” Kageyama tries to look over his shoulder, but his head is forced down once again. It stays there as the fingers inside of him curl and stretch. It's just meant to be prep. He saw a plug laid out with everything else. But it's so frustratingly almost that he has a hard time staying relaxed.

Tsukishima doesn't answer him right away, and when he does his voice sounds different. “You're loose. That's cute.” It's clipped, impersonal, but not cold. Authoritative maybe. At any rate he doesn't waste his time, and as Kageyama gets adjusted to the plug, he's asked to lift one foot, and then the other. Soft cloth runs up his legs until the waistband sits low on his hips.

His ass is exposed to the rest of the room, and Kageyama has to rethink this decision. He's never even seen backless underwear for men, yet here he was. If Tsukishima was gonna put this on him anyway why not put the plug in last?

“Getting cold feet, King?” Kageyama bristles at the nickname. Another part of the agreement: he was to address Tsukishima as Sir, and in turn he couldn't use his real name. It helped to separate the scene from reality or something. All Kageyama knows is that it wasn't a compliment.

 _A control freak like you must keep his little kingdom in check, huh?_

“Nope,” he answers shortly, standing up. The plug shifts a bit but he ignores it. “What next? Should I assume lamp position?”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow and regards him silently. “Actually, I had a different position in mind for you.”

 

It takes a good ten minutes for Kageyama to stop seething. Another seven to get used to the weight on his back. How the hell did anyone find this sexy?! A grown man was using him as a literal footstool in his own home! Kageyama wanted to jump to his feet, throw his weird not-a-thong in his face, and block every piece of contact information the man had given him. What an ass! This wasn't erotic this was stupid!

Tsukishima sighs, and Kageyama can hear him put his book down. The one he had taken from _his_ bookshelf before sitting his ass in _his_ recliner.

Kageyama feels tenser than ever, not to mention frustrated with himself. Maybe...maybe if he thought of it like yoga or something. Weighted yoga. He takes a deep breath, adjusts his position, and closes his eyes. It's not like Tsukishima moves all that much, and he had placed his legs so that his calves and not his shoes rested over him.

“I think I'll check what's on the news,” Tsukishima muses aloud, quite unnecessarily. Furniture didn't talk, and as much as Kageyama wanted to tell him off—less so now that he's found his zen—he can't speak unless he's using his safe word.

Kageyama tunes him out, though his lips twist in confusion when he feels the absence of Tsukishima’s legs. He returns soon enough, and while he wouldn't admit it aloud, the pressure on his back had become a sort of comfort. If only because he's gotten used to it. The company could be better, but it's far from the most unpleasant thing he's ever done. Still, he isn't understanding the kink part of this. 

_”Mm!”_

“Whoops. Wrong remote.” The television flicks on, and Tsukishima repositions his legs so that one is over his shoulders, and the other foot sits just above where his ass is exposed in these mystifying shorts. But Kageyama only notices these things as secondary sensations. He's a little preoccupied trying to hold his form.

In hindsight it was probably obvious that the plug was one that vibrated. He had told Tsukishima he was familiar with stuff like that. Which wasn't a lie per say, but he had never used one personally. It felt like his entire body was under a massage wand, that he had come in from the winter chill, only his skin wasn't cold. Warmth radiates from his lower back outwards, and he finds himself spreading his legs, trying in vain to get the plug a little deeper.

“Such a shaky footrest. I might have to replace it.” Kageyama knows this is his first warning to get his shit together, so he holds his breath and focuses on keeping still. The plug was maddeningly not enough, which he assumes is the point. 

The foot by his ass moves lower as the vibrations grow in intensity. It’s a steady climb, one Kageyama is painfully aware of. He was suddenly grateful for his position, because if he had to stand and endure this, if Tsukishima could see how wet the front of his underwear was, he'd be mortified. Thinking about those judging eyes and that smirking mouth, those long fingers creeping up his leg, curling inside of him–

His arms are pulled out from under him and he lands on his chest, air leavings his lungs in a confused moan. He keeps his eyes closed against all odds, and swallows back another sound when those damnable hands spread his knees apart. Kageyama’s hips are high in the air while his cheek rests on the floor. He's entirely exposed, and he wants to move. But he can't. He won't. Because he's not like all the others.

Tsukishima doesn't hold back, either. He helps, sort of, and doesn't say anything when Kageyama wobbles a bit once he's got one of his legs extended. He rubs his fingers up and down his leg, lingering in places, skirting quickly over others. Once that leg is back in position he does the other. Kageyama’s breath comes fast through his nose, lips pressed together in a thin line. What the fuck is he doing?!

“Ah, I see the problem.” That voice is back, the smug, silk tie of a voice. Tsukishima spreads his knees apart even further. His thighs almost touch the floor. He had no idea he could stretch this way.

Kageyama, who had opened his mouth on a sigh, closes it just in time when he feels the plug press deeper into him, just as a warm hand cradles his balls. He's hard, embarrassingly so for how little has been done to him, but if Tsukishima thinks anything of it, he doesn't say.

Past experience makes him antsy to move, to demand more, to voice his pleasure. The plug starts vibrating so hard he can hear it, and Tsukishima continues to use his thumb to rub it deeper inside, like it has somewhere to go. It's too short, on the thinner side, at least by looking at it, and it's not enough. Kageyama’s thighs tremble, his cock leaks in the thong, and it's not _enough_.

“These can't be all that important if they were hidden underneath.” Tsukishima treats his body like an object, a cheap piece of IKEA furniture. Kageyama wants more, he needs more, but he can't move. He has to prove that he's the best… submissive? Bottom? It doesn't matter! He can't take that condescending smirk or those eyes that look at him like they know his secrets, that take him apart one screw at a time.

Tsukishima talks aloud, words that Kageyama can't hold on to. He's biting his lip so hard he's worried he’ll break the skin. He feels pulled taut, stretched in a way he's never been before. He's out of his element, an invisible weight on his shoulders, at the mercy of a man who he wants to punch in the face but right now he'd kiss his feet if he told him to if only he'd—

“What a shame. Might as well take it apart and start over.”

Kageyama gets pushed down hips first, all the way down, and the sudden friction against his neglected cock has him rutting against the floor. It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come. And all the while Tsukishima is just playing with that plug, twisting and pulling, until Kageyama’s hips slow to a stop.

Utterly spent, and feeling oddly exposed, Kageyama buries his nose in his soft, fluffy maroon rug and breathes in the scent of familiarity. The plug lowers in intensity until it's off completely, and then it's slowly removed, leaving him with this partial emptiness that's half soothed away by sure hands massaging his legs. He wonders, distantly, if this is the aftercare part.

“Wow,” he murmurs, not to either of them in particular. The blanket that usually hangs over his couch is draped over his body, and long fingers run through his hair at a measured pace.

“Not bad for your first time.” Kageyama dares to imagine a hint of surprise in that voice. “Lasted nearly an hour. Some get fed up after twenty minutes.” He doesn't laugh but it sounds like he wants to. Kageyama only hums in response, maybe even dozes off, because when he finally opens his eyes Tsukishima isn't anywhere nearby. He rolls over onto his back, grimacing at the dried mess in his new underwear. He can't exactly return them now, can he?

“Next time,” Kageyama says from his place on the rug, hearing Tsukishima pack his things in the kitchen. He feels heavy, tired, but also the most calm he's been in a long, long while. “Next time I'm picking the position.” His arms are like soggy cardboard, and he will definitely be feeling it in his knees tomorrow.

“You say that like you're anticipating a second time, King.”

The amusement from before is back, laced with something that Kageyama decides is satisfaction. He doesn't get up after hearing his door close, and instead replays those words over and over in his head. Tsukishima Kei was an asshole, no doubt about it. But he was pretty good at this aftercare stuff. And...

Maybe, he thinks, eyes drifting shut once again, maybe he could get used to the name.


End file.
